


Collateral Damage

by Wishmaker



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishmaker/pseuds/Wishmaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neku's job was guiding ghosts to the afterlife and he was good at it. Get rid of attachments, have a chat with relatives, that was it. Joshua wasn't supposed to be any different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collateral Damage

”You’re dead,” Neku murmured as the first thing, shoving his hands to his pockets, ducking his head a bit. He had been doing this for the upside of a decade and he had long since learned that _breaking it to them slowly_ rarely brought the consequences he desired. People tended to get upset with him for not being told straight away, so he was currently very content saying it out loud the first chance he get. He couldn’t speak too loudly, though – there were hundreds of people walking about right now, and he’d rather not be confronted about whom he was talking to. It wasn’t like the Scramble Crossing but it wasn’t too far from it, either.

 

“Ah, I believe I would have to be rather dense not to understand that,” the boy murmured. His voice was a bit raspy – apparently a rather common side effect of dying, regardless of the cause – but otherwise it seemed to fit his body well enough. It carried the faintest hint of a foreign accent, though it wasn’t anything Neku could pinpoint to a certain location. He was around Neku’s age, give or take a year, but he was wearing an untucked dress shirt and black skinny jeans. It wasn’t a very usual fashion choice for someone his age, but the clothes looked like they may have been Dragon Couture and Neku was sure Shiki would’ve appreciated that. Neku, on the other hand, only appreciated the fact that ghosts always looked remotely alive when they met him; there were no missing limbs or splattered organs or any of the grotesque horror movie –clutter.

 

His ash-blonde hair was a mess, like he had walked through a raging tornado on his way here, instead of just popping there with a confused look in his wide, grey eyes. He was frail, enough so that he looked like you could grab his arm and twist and the bone would break with an awful _crack_. Neku was wondering if his death was caused by some inherited illness, a heart failure or cancer. He certainly looked fragile enough for it. Then again, the subdued colour palette may have been chosen by death; he may have looked more alive before he had died.

 

Even with all the imperfections, Neku had to admit he was rather good-looking. He had probably been popular, when he was alive. At least if his personality wasn’t completely flawed.

 

Under Neku’s peering gaze, he simply shrugged. “I get run over by _a train_ , and suddenly I’m at Hachiko? That’s a rather clear telltale-sign, if you ask me.”

 

“Accident or—“

 

“ _Of course_ it was an accident,” he huffed, though Neku couldn’t quite understand how getting run over by a train by accident was supposed to be more likely than hopping underneath one. Besides, he had been getting an awful lot of suicide cases lately – three within the last month – so he was rather inclined to believe every single person wanted to die, nowadays. “So, what are you doing, talking to me?” he looked honestly curious, even showing the hints of a grin. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

 

Neku shrugged, but it wasn’t because he was mimicking the other guy’s movements. “It’s my job. I find ghosts, sort out whatever’s keeping them here and send them on their merry way.” There was an unspoken _you are no different_ hanging in the air, but he didn’t say it. The boy probably understood without his reminding.

 

“How lovely,” he murmured, “So, what do you think is keeping me here?” He perched himself on top of one of the benches, seeming to take great delight in the way it didn’t topple over underneath his weight as he balanced himself on the edge of the back.

 

“Family ties, friends maybe. Those are the most common causes.” The less common causes were some unfinished task or being really transfixed to an item or a place, but Neku didn’t like bringing those up. They were a true pain to fix, so he hoped he could just have a quick chat with the guy’s parents and then wish him well, rest in peace et cetera.

 

“Do dig around,” he agreed cheerily, “I think I’ll tag along and watch, dear.” He bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, either because he’s uncomfortable or excited.

 

“I’d rather you don’t.”

 

“Sure, sure.” He sounded rather convinced that he was not going to listen to Neku, no matter what he said.

 

“What’s your name?” he fished a notebook from his bag, along with a pen. The first words he wrote were _my age? got run over by a train, not a suicide? probably went to high school before death, might not be from around here originally?_

 

He was good at what he did. He was good at observing people because he didn’t bring himself to the forefront. He let the ghosts talk until he had the information he had been looking for, after which he sorted it out. It was actually easier than it sounded, more often than not.

 

“Oh, but it would be rather polite if you introduced yourself first, don’t you think?” He actually giggled, kicking both of his feet in the air in a rather infuriating rhythm. Even though Neku couldn’t hear the sound of his feet hitting the back of the chair, imagining it annoyed him just as greatly. He didn’t handle distracting noises well, that’s why he usually wore his headphones. On the downside, they also prevented him from hearing ghosts, so…

 

“Neku. Neku Sakuraba.”

 

“Nothing but a name? But I’d rather hear all about you, dear…~” He giggled again, snobby as he was. Neku briefly let his mind wander; he had a rather good record of helping ghosts, so what was one failed attempt, really? What did it matter if one of them stayed behind, wandering around aimlessly for the rest of its existence?

 

Then again, what if it meant he would be stuck with the boy for the rest of _his_ existence? That was hardly anything he’d wish even for his worst enemy (who, coincidentally, happened to be the ghost, right then).

 

“Your name was?”

 

“Joshua. Kiryu.” He said it like he was trying it out, rolling the syllables slowly and then nodding, like he had found the one name from his collection that he actually liked.

 

“Joshua?” That hardly sounded like he was local, even if his last name begged to differ.

 

“Yes, I’m rather certain you heard it the first time. Can you spell it?” He grinned happily, as if he was some challenge superior to Neku’s abilities, some code that couldn’t be cracked, a script in a dead language. If he truly believed he was so special, then he clearly wasn’t as smart a he wished to seem.

 

“Of course I can spell it. Is it short for something?”

 

“I believe what you might be looking for is _Yoshiya_ ,” he shrugged again here, resuming to his needless kicking and staring into nothing. Sometimes Neku believed ghosts could see something he couldn’t, but they had never confirmed his suspicions. “But that’s hardly any longer, is it?”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“I never got your proper introduction,” Joshua pointed out. It felt weird, him finally having a name. Neku didn’t quite know what he was to think about that. _Of course_ he had a name. He had been alive, probably just a few hours ago actually.

 

“I’m nineteen, I went to high school around here. I like music and graffiti, I have a mother and father. I guide ghosts to the afterlife in my free time.” His life wasn’t exciting; it was a monotonous habit he executed on a daily basis. School, music, ghosts, music, Internet, sometimes friends. He considered a Friday night spent watching a horror film marathon exciting.

 

“Your life sounds so dull…” Joshua drawled without any actual spite, leaning forward as he did, and if Neku were vindictive (and if it wasn’t quite true), he would’ve pointed out that Joshua didn’t have a life of his own, not anymore. “I was 18,” Neku noted that he was already getting the hang of referring to himself as a former person, “Played the violin, went to high school here too, I had parents as well as a sister.” He was answering the questions Neku needed answered with surprising efficiency, giving him exactly what he needed.

 

He wrote down _18, violin (restrictive hobbies), seems in terms with dying (suicidal?), parents & sister, (locate/ask about), high school in Shibuya (mine or some other?)_

 

“Uhuh,” he murmured after finishing taking notes. “So do you have any close friends here?”

 

Joshua shrugged, “Not really. The closest I can think of would be Mr. H, the owner of WildKat. You know?”

 

Neku had heard of the café once or twice but he didn’t really _know_ , so he didn’t reply either. “How close?”

 

“He’ll…” Joshua trailed off, the kicking ceasing for a moment as he shook his head. “Not that close.” That, if anything, was a way of saying _VERY CLOSE_.

 

_ask wildkat owner about him DISCREETLY_

 

The last thing he needed was some old guy either breaking down or him or starting to question how he knew Joshua. He didn’t. Know Joshua, that is. He was just trying to get him out of his hair, that was all there was to it.

 

“I think I’m going to head home, then,” Neku murmured, for it was getting late and he didn’t generally like the Udagawa Back Streets when it was dark, “This shouldn’t take more than a few days, a week at tops. Don’t wander too far so that I can tell when you’ve passed.” It was a blatant lie – he could tell when ghosts had passed because he only ever had one job at a time. He wanted them to feel like they owed him something, which was why he always told them to stay close by. Ghosts were easier to help when they helped themselves.

 

“I think I’ll tag along.”

 

“I’d rather you not. Go do… ghost things or something.”

 

He giggled, bringing one of his hands closer to his face in obvious amusement. “Ghost things, Neku? What do you suppose I want to do in Shibuya at night? Besides, you’re the only person who can hear me, right?”

 

He didn’t have any good means of countering that, so he sighed in defeat. “Fine, come along if you must.”  
  


* * *

  
It turned out after a few phone calls Mr. H had died of cancer a week ago. Joshua didn’t break down over when he gained this knowledge but he didn’t talk to Neku for days. He didn’t even answer Neku’s questions or his slightly worried pleas. He didn’t react to anything, just stared into the distance lifelessly and at that moment Neku was _so sure_ Joshua could see something he couldn’t.

  
Neku realised during those quiet days that when Joshua was brooding, he became more of a ghost. He no longer sat on benches – he floated through them. Neku was rather sure if he were to speak now, his voice would be nothing but a sad echo.  
 

He didn’t leave Neku’s side either. He followed Neku like – for the lack of a better word – a ghost. It was surprising because usually ghosts left him the first chance they got, either to look at their surroundings or to locate their loved ones. Joshua didn’t seem to have any intentions of doing either of these things.  
  


And he wasn’t going to move on to the afterlife, Neku realised after a week of eerie-ghosty Joshua following him around and probably getting him a cold or pneumonia as he did. There was something else keeping him here.  
  


When he finally spoke, he said, “I already knew.” His voice was raspier than when Neku had first seen him at Hachiko, days of disuse showing even though they shouldn’t. He looked at Neku like he wanted an answer to some question that determined his whole world but whatever it was, he didn’t ask it.

  
Neku crossed Mr. H’s name from his list that night, writing down _recently lost a loved one_ and underlining the word _suicidal?_ he had written down the other day. Twice, because he wanted to feel like he was accomplishing something. He also wrote _making progress_ but struck through it afterwards. It was true that Joshua had seemed like he was vanishing, but now he was back to laughing airily and using doors like they mattered in his current state.

  
Neku was officially back to square one – no, square  _zero_ .

   
He sighed and may or may not have fallen asleep at his desk. Even if he had, Joshua didn’t comment on it.  
  


* * *

 

  
“Do you guys know Joshua Kiryu?” Neku asked his friends one day over a cup of coffee.  
 

Eri sighed; she was already used to the way he produced weird names out of nowhere to ask them about. On his defence, though, he only asked them when he was downright _desperate_ and none of his other tactics were doing anything at all for him. He hadn’t bothered to tell them about his line of work because he quite enjoyed having normal friends that had nothing to do with ghosts whatsoever.

   
Shiki, though – Shiki only stared at him with a blank face as he tried to do his job. Shiki was the only one who was actually his friend – the others were her friends, so they were his friends by some strange _friend’s friends are friends_ –type rule. They had accepted Neku just fine when she had introduced them, years ago.  
  


“He died a few weeks ago, didn’t he?” Rhyme asked with a frown, and Beat made some weird sounds and almost put his hands to her ears because he didn’t want Rhyme to talk about dying. “He played the violin."  
 

“Gosh, Neku,” Eri sighed, “Why do you only ever talk about dead people?” Shiki laughed lightly, shaking her head. Rhyme just smiled a bit, her eyes glowing with the knowledge of being asked a question and being able to answer it.  
  


Neku merely blinked a few times before offering her a careful smile, “That’s right. Could you tell me more about him?”  
  


* * *

 

“When you said you played the violin, you _could’ve mentioned_ you’re a fucking prodigy,” Neku hissed right away when he saw Joshua again, lounging on Neku’s bed like he owned the thing, the whole room even. It wasn’t even surprising to see him there anymore. For some reason or another, he hadn’t wished to tag along when Neku had gone to meet his friends and Neku hadn’t pressed him. It would’ve been awkward to talk about him if he was to be hovering around, anyway.  
  


Maybe it was a bit unsettling that while he was out, Neku had felt like something was amiss since Joshua wasn’t there. He wasn’t supposed to feel like Joshua belonged there, because he didn’t. Joshua belonged to the afterlife – he had had his chance at life already.  
  


“ _Were_ a prodigy,” Joshua corrected with a self-satisfied little grin, looking away from the magazine Neku had left there, and Neku wondered if Joshua had been staring at that one page all this time. It wasn’t like he could turn it. “Was it Rhyme who told you? She’s brighter than anyone gives her credit for, you know.” Neku talked about his friends sometimes and Joshua had commented that he’d like to meet them. It was all kinds of strange that he hadn’t wanted to come and see them, after all that.  
  


“Turns out she was a fan of yours,” Neku snorted, throwing his messenger back across the room and sitting down at his chair. He hadn’t really gotten much out of Rhyme but he had at least learned that Joshua used to smile more when he was alive. Oh, also that he was _kind of famous_ – he had done a lot of recitals and while they weren’t a really big thing, people talked about him. Apparently he was pretty good, considering his age and all, some kind of natural talent mixed with way too much effort to be healthy. No wonder he was dead, actually.  
 

“Ah, I wish I could’ve given her an autograph.” Joshua murmured eerily – he wasn’t only in terms with the whole _so apparently I’m dead_ –thing, but also took the most out of it, “You make sure she knows how much I appreciate her continuous support, right dear?”  
  


Neku sighed, deep and vanquished. Some days he really wasn’t sure if he wanted to offer Joshua all the help he could possibly give him or strangle him. To death. With an ugly-looking tie, if only to add to the insult.  
  


* * *

  
“Do you have a grave?” He asked, because it had been two months and he supposed there might have been a grave by now. Also because Joshua’s parents lived in _America_ and his sister in _London_ and thus, Neku didn’t exactly have the means of reaching them. This was the only thing he had, the only pathetic lead he had that he could follow. At least Joshua was cooperating now instead of just dodging every single question had to ask.

   
Because of this, they had been talking more. Joshua didn’t speak when he didn’t feel like it, but when he did feel like it, it could be about anything. One day he was asking Neku what was his favourite subject at school (art, of course, the way they taught music was far too restrictive, Joshua didn’t agree but he seemed curious regardless) and another day he was asking Neku if he thought life was worth living (he didn’t have a pre-programmed answer to that but he said yes, Joshua replied that he hadn’t always thought that way; after the conversation Neku underlined the word _suicidal?_ one more time).  
  


It was morbid, but Neku had found that he actually liked talking to Joshua. He didn’t like talking to anyone; he only did his job and anything else that was necessary. He didn’t even like people, most of the time.

   
Joshua shrugged, “Am I supposed to know?” And the more Neku thought of it, the better he realised that Joshua really wasn’t. How was he to know where he had been buried, what the funeral was like? Neku realised belatedly that he definitely should have attended – it would have been the perfect opportunity to decode Joshua, through snippets of conversations and tearful eulogies.

   
Then again, he had never had a ghost that had stuck around for more than a week, so how was he to know?

   
Neku reached for him, out of an instinct. It was what you were supposed to do when someone you cared about was sad; you comforted them. Right?

   
His hand couldn’t get a grip of Joshua’s – it felt as if he was trying to touch a cold cloud right before it started to rain– and he tried to withdraw it without commenting on it.

   
“It’s weird,” Joshua said offhandedly. “Some days I feel like I can’t remember what being alive was like.”

   
Neku didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was those comments that made him that much more of a ghost than he already was. Instead, he told him, “It’s not that great, really. Most living people are… they don’t deserve life and yet most ghosts do. How messed up is that?”

   
Joshua smiled a bit at the vague comment. Neku supposed it was actually the closest to an actual compliment Neku had given him, and that was rather desolate. “That’s the way the world works.”

  
They continued to sit on Neku’s balcony, staring into the distance and pretending like every passing minute wasn’t another step towards the inevitable, the deep abyss that was starting to get all too real for Neku’s liking.  
  


* * *

  
“Pray tell, Neku,” Joshua murmured after watching Neku consume almost half a chicken. He was sitting on a kitchen chair after Neku had vehemently told him he was _not_ to sit on the kitchen table _no matter_ if he was dead or not. “Are you dating anyone? I don’t think you’ve told me all too much about your relationships.” That went both ways, truthfully.  
  


Coming from a normal person, Neku would probably see the careless question as an unconcealed pick-up line. Coming from Joshua, though, meant it could be anything from a backhanded insult to an outlandish diversion tactic. “I’m not,” he answered truthfully, “But I have before.” Cue Shiki and Coco, both before he had fully realised that he was unfortunately gay. He hadn’t even told his friends about that yet, because why should he? It wasn’t like he had his eyes on anyone right now and he didn’t exactly wish to make a scene of it _just because_ he felt like they should know.

   
“Mm-hm,” Joshua agreed, “I had a boyfriend, once.” He frowned a bit, as if trying to find a name to match the face he had in mind or vice versa. The boyfriend bit was rather given; Joshua was all too pretty to be straight. “For the last few years though, I’ve been too busy playing the _violin_.” He names the instrument like it’s a swear word, like the right amount of cold hatred can make it all undone. It’s weird all in all, because Neku hadn’t heard him swear before. He was actually rather laid-back and detached, at least considering he had had his whole life ripped away from him.

   
Neku thought – no, he knows Joshua loved the violin. He has seen recordings of recitals and heard about it from Rhyme, after all. If it could make Joshua smile – actually smile like he was happy, not grin like he held all the secrets of the world on the palm of his hand and wasn’t willing to share – it had to be important to him.

   
“I’m sorry,” Neku offered. Perhaps dying made one reconsider the choices they had made. Neku thought briefly that for a living person, he knew too much about death, way too much.  
  


Joshua grinned, but it had never been farther away from reaching his eyes. He didn’t say anything.

  
Neku was fairly certain this was another setback. He didn’t make any notes of the conversation.

   
He kind of wished he could have felt Joshua’s head on his shoulder, but he couldn’t. If anything, he’d get a frostbite on that one spot on the side of his neck.  
  


* * *

  
Ever since the relationship conversation, Neku had thought he had actually sensed a change in Joshua. He was quieter and more reserved. He didn’t talk to Neku as openly as he had before; it was as if he had something else in his mind, something that was taking his concentration altogether. Neku didn’t know what was the right way to ask about it. If he was blunt, Joshua might withdraw even further, taking it as a hint that he was being pathetic and needed Neku’s pity, which he of course didn’t. If he tried to get it out of him more indirectly, it would be easier for Joshua to reflect.  
  


Neku has been making countless phone calls; he has phoned Joshua’s violin instructor (who couldn’t tell him anything), his teachers (who didn’t even seem to know anything), his classmates (who didn’t seem to like him), even his ex-boyfriend (who seemed saddened but shrugged it off too easily) and everyone else he could think of without feeling like he was a complete idiot. The results were always the same; _he’s indifferent, he only ever liked the violin, I don’t think he had any ties to anything whatsoever, why are you asking?_

   
Neku groaned. He understood why these people were under illusion of Joshua being nothing short of heartless, but by each passing day, he believed it even less. Joshua wasn’t… he wasn’t emotionless, he was just guarded. He didn’t hate people (sometimes Neku did), he just didn’t connect with them on the deep emotional level they wanted from him. Maybe other people weren’t just brilliant enough to understand him. He wasn’t what people wanted him to be, but that didn’t completely erase his worth as a person.

   
“If you were to die tomorrow, what would you want to do today?” Joshua asked him one day, poking at a coffee cup soundlessly.

   
“I’d try to help you cross over,” Neku answered quickly. There was no doubt about it in his mind; he wanted to help Joshua even if it was the last thing he did.

   
Joshua didn’t seem pleased with this answer, frowning and ceasing his relentless poking. “Really?”

   
“Mm-hmm.” Neku stared into his cereal, suddenly not feeling all that hungry anymore. He was running out of time with Joshua; why did it have to be this time that he was suddenly incapable of doing his job right?

  
“I spent my last day like every other day; playing the violin.” That wasn’t really a sensible comment, but Neku was trying not to question his logic. He desperately wanted to be brilliant enough to understand Joshua.

   
“You loved it.”

   
“I did,” he agreed, ”But I could’ve had other passions in life, too. I could’ve had a _life_.”

   
Neku sighed, empathetic. Maybe Joshua wasn’t as ready to die as he sometimes seemed. Maybe the very thing holding him back was his _whole life_. How was Neku supposed to even start fixing that? The worst he had ever come across was a woman who was awfully attached to her apartment and didn’t want anyone else to move in, a situation that had been fixed with arson. _If you love something, burn it down, right?_ Neku had told her and she had been happy to move on after that.

   
“Do you think we would have been friends?” Joshua’s voice didn’t quite break, but it wasn’t far from it, either. “Had we met when I was alive.”

   
He laughed a bit, “I think I would have hated you… at first. But if we got to know each other, who knows? I like you well enough… I guess we could have.”

   
“Oh, the feeling’s reciprocal,” Joshua murmured with a grin. “I wish I had a friend like you,” he added with out-of-character honesty.

   
“Same,” Neku agreed lamely, because how was he even supposed to start explaining how he wished Joshua wasn’t dead and fading? That maybe if Joshua was still alive, they could have been so much more?

   
He wasn’t quite sure if _that_ feeling was reciprocal, though.

   
“What about if you could do anything today, and no one would remember it tomorrow?” Joshua probed on. He obviously had some ulterior motive Neku wasn’t quite catching up to.

   
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “What would you do, then?”

   
“I’d tell the person I like that I like them, of course,” Joshua said like it was about as obvious as the colour of Neku’s hair. “It would be risk-free, would it not?”

   
“You _like someone_ ,” Neku repeated, feeling stupid he had never asked if Joshua was still pining over someone. Just because he wasn’t dating, it wasn’t certain that he didn’t love someone. God, Neku was so stupid. “Why didn’t you just tell me? It’s probably the thing keeping you here…!”

   
“You might be,” Joshua agreed, “But I don’t want you to _fix things_. Life never really did anything for me.” Joshua shrugged, apparently more in terms with this than Neku could ever be. “I think this is where I’m needed.” It sounded awfully like _I guess I didn’t like life and I’m not allowed to leave, so…_ “I like you, Neku.”

   
“I’m sorry,” Neku murmured quietly. His head was swimming. He was aware there were consequences, there was a timeline and if you didn’t help a ghost quickly enough, they couldn’t cross over anymore. “I… I couldn’t do it. It’s been half a year; I think it’s clear… I couldn’t help you.” What did it matter if they liked each other? Joshua was dead and Neku was incapable of helping him. In their own ways, both of them had failed.

   
“It’s _fine_ , Neku.” He was smiling with something that was too much like happiness. He wasn’t allowed to be happy, not when he didn’t understand that whatever he wanted _wasn’t real_.

   
“No, you don’t understand,” Neku frowned, “You’re supposed to cross over… you deserve that much.” He was pretty sure Joshua didn’t agree with that statement, but it was true. Joshua deserved to have good things, and this the very opposite of a good thing: floating around aimlessly until he lost grasp of himself. Even though it might have sounded good then and there, eventually it was all bound to go to hell.  
  


“I don’t have parents, Neku.” He looked straight at Neku and were his eyes really _purple_ why was there no note of that in Neku’s notebook? “Or a sister. I have nothing to keep me here, do you understand that?”

   
“Umm…. No? No, I don’t? Of course you do?” Neku wasn’t sure why he sounded so questioning, but he knew that Joshua had a family; he had spent six months trying to sort out all of his problems, even if he hadn’t succeeded.

   
“I really don’t.” Joshua picked up Neku’s pen and twirled it around his fingers with a grin, obviously pleased.

   
He fucking _picked up a pen_.

   
“I have nowhere to be,” he explained calmly. “I don’t even have a grave, you know?” So he _did_ know about the grave after all. Bastard. So much for him being cooperative. “ _Nothing_. I’m not saying you’re not doing a good job, but… there’s just nothing for me. You can’t untangle me from a mess I don’t belong in. I lied about having a family; Mr. H was my guardian. There’s nothing keeping me here.”

   
“You can’t just pick up things like that,” Neku panned, staring at the pen that was still spinning. He could hear Joshua say things that basically undermined everything they had done those past few months but the only thing he could really focus on were the twitching movements of Joshua’s fingers.

   
“Except for you. You’re the only thing I have.” Joshua chucked the pen away, hitting Neku’s hand with it. His voice sounded clearer. It was only a hint in the grand scheme of things, but it was _the hint_ that made all the difference in Neku’s world. His voice was clearer. It wasn’t just a setback, it couldn’t be. Setbacks didn’t make ghosts sound like they were alive.

   
Joshua looked away from him, not saying anything else for a while. Neku wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t understand anything. Ghosts didn’t just _pick things up and throw them at him_ , they just didn’t. They weren’t tangible.

   
“How did you do that?” Neku asked him finally, briefly noticing that it was now him who sounded like a ghost. Him and not Joshua, who was a ghost.

   
Joshua grinned, that patented _the world is mine and I know I’m infuriating but you love me_ –grin, and stood up. “I want to say I know the reason but I _really_ don’t. I think I could actually use your help right now, darling. And…” he twirled his hair with the same hand he had previously twirled the pen with and Neku was belatedly realising it was probably his dominant one. “Have you ever considered I might be here for _you_ , and not the other way around?” He moved his other hand close to Neku’s face, like he wanted to touch it but was all too afraid to.

   
“I haven’t,” Neku admitted quietly, “But that doesn’t make—“

   
Any objections he had were dying on his tongue as soon as Joshua’s lips ghosted on his. There was absolutely nothing ghost-like about him; he was warm and tangible and kissed Neku with all the love of someone who hadn’t died in a horrid accident.

   
Neku was desperate and perhaps even slightly unreasonable and he knew it, but regardless he tugged Joshua closer to him, wrapping his arms around the other boy. He stopped focusing on the kiss long enough to find Joshua’s heart hammering in his chest. It was a vivid beat, like his heart hadn’t quite understood dying and tried to pretend nothing had happened after all this time.

   
“Your heart is beating,” he murmured, dazed.

   
“It would certainly seem that way,” Joshua agreed, grinning carefully. He didn’t seem to have any words to explain it, so he pressed his face to Neku’s shoulder instead.

   
Neku briefly thought it was a foolish wish and a naïve hope, but then again… he had seen this happen once before. Once. Sometimes people got the second chance they deserved, he supposed. This was _Joshua Kiryu_ , though – this would work too well, it would be too perfect. It was exactly the kind of a coincidence that just didn’t happen, because real life had certain boundaries.

   
Joshua laughed; there was something that was so alive about the sound.

   
Neku realised then, as Joshua’s fingers wound themselves in his hair, that this wasn’t actually Joshua getting a second chance; it wasn’t about him.

   
It was _him_ getting a second chance. Neku, who had done his job rather well for the upside of a decade. Neku, who didn’t make friends with anyone but ghosts. Neku, who couldn’t possibly find anyone who was alive. Joshua seemed to have caught on faster than he had, even before he picked up the pen, probably. He had known when he started the conversation.

   
“Oh god,” he muttered, grinning too wide and hugging Joshua too tight. If his presumptions were right, he was glad it was _Joshua_ ; it was Joshua getting a second chance for his sake. Joshua, who was fucking infuriating and who had gotten on Neku’s nerves from the first day, Joshua who was also the closest person Neku had, living or dead. Living, it seemed.

   
Joshua smiled, and it was then that Neku knew what he was like when he played the violin. The recorded recitals hadn’t done it justice – he really loved the violin, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay more TWEWY! This idea has been haunting me for weeks so not writing it was hardly an option, really... I hope you liked this >u> I would die (not literally, I swear) to have a comment or something, it would seriously make my day... pretty please?


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